


I Like You

by Kiwifruitjuice



Category: Avengers
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt Tony, Insecure Tony, M/M, Protective Steve, Stony - Freeform, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, stony fluff, worried steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwifruitjuice/pseuds/Kiwifruitjuice
Summary: Steve and Tony have been dating for exactly four weeks, and Steve has massed thousands of dollars worth of gifts. In the midst of figuring out the perfect gift for a man who has everything, Steve learns something important from Tony.





	I Like You

The glittering ring, a silver band with a heavy weight, felt unnatural against Steve’s finger. His eyes gazed over the engraving Tony had requested to the maker: Happy One Month - Tony, that wrapped around the band and met each end. Steve didn’t need to ask - could judge by the sheer weight and shine of the thing that it would put a dent out of a normals man’s pocket. 

Today marked four weeks since Steve convinced himself to approach Tony, and almost collapsed in relief when Tony accepted with his usual snarky remark. 

“Always knew you had a thing for me, Rogers.”

And he was right. The pair had had more than a rocky start, but something about Tony - week after week Steve was forced to be in the same room with him, and Steve found himself fascinated by everything the man did. Through the years, he’d learned what that meant, but knew better than to mix dating and coworkers together. 

But maybe that was another thing he had to get used to in this century- that that wasn’t a big deal anymore, especially not for the team. Steve had expected them to be surprised, angry even, but there was barely a reaction save for Natasha’s silent, knowing look and Clint’s giggle at Tony. 

And now they were four weeks in, and Steve had things in his possession he would have had an asthma attack thinking about in the thirties. Clothes he didn’t dare check the price tag, rings and brackets like the one on his finger now, top of the line brushes, pens and pencils and the thick, easy-erasable paper Steve loved, packs of watercolours he knew you couldn’t find in an average art store, and anything else you could think of. Last week, Tony had surprised him with an entire room, completely blank with white walls and floors. Steve had been confused, and when Tony explained he dedicated a room for him to “paint and make pretty”, and had other rooms waiting when this one became full, Steve almost had a heart attack, and couldn’t breathe when Tony introduced another room stocked to the roof with paint of all colours and variety. 

So Tony had splurged him to extents crazy to Steve, but apparently normal for Tony, and it had been four weeks. Steve didn’t have to know math to figure out it must have added up to at least a few thousand dollars, probably more knowing Tony. The thought made Steve’s stomach uneasy.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the gifts - he did, greatly, but the problem was - he had no idea how to repay him. He didn’t have the money to buy Tony amazing things, and even if he did, changes are Tony already had it, anyway. Steve wasn’t sure what you gift a man who had everything. 

Usually, if Steve had to gift someone something, he made art - a complicated drawing, or portrait, or a small craft that took a few hours to master. But Tony didn’t seem like the type of man to enjoy that. Steve had no doubts he’d appreciate the gift, but he wondered if the drawing would end up being another paper in his shop, overflowing with the others. If he was honest, the thought made him feel guilty. He felt he should have more faith in Tony, but he seemed so... so - fancy. What would he do with a drawing? No, Steve had to do matter. Something to match everything Tony had given him so far. 

So, Steve spent a few days, and many hours, asking around the team what he hoped was casually, what a man like Tony would want as a gift. He got the expected answers - “nothing”, and “a pot of coffee that refills itself with magic” by Clint. 

Natasha suggested a drawing, and after Steve’s explanation of why he couldn’t do that, clicked her tongue and gave a small disappointed look at Steve. 

As the days stretched by, Steve grew more frustrated. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what to get Tony, and it was driving him insane. 

Tony deserved more than he got - that Steve knew. The two had thrown stabs at each other, words that he wasn’t naive enough to believe didn’t still linger today, and Steve had seen the hurt behind Tony’s expressions. Steve knew too well how to mask his emotions for the sake of the mission - for the sake of keeping it together - and he could see it everyday on Tony’s face. 

Steve just couldn’t conquer up the perfect gift - the gift that would express to Tony how much he truly cared about him, despite their past, that words couldn’t say. The days turned to a week, and Steve had gotten another batch of beautiful paint that laid on the walls like a dream. The room Tony had given him was almost full - Steve’s thoughts were best when he was creating - so he had spent the majority of the week inside the room, painting anything he could think of. He’d ruined multiple pairs of sweats and white tanks, and they were replaced within the day by Tony. 

Steve was sitting on the floor, hands and arms caked with dried paint, staring silly at the empty white space on the floor in front of him. He didn’t hear the door open, too focused on his thoughts causing a rainstorm in his brain. 

He jumped when he felt a hand ruffle his hair, splattered with droplets of paint. He looked up and met Tony’s beautiful eyes, a loose smile on his lips. Steve grinned and laughed, embarrassed at his mess. 

“I like it when you get lost in your art,” Tony said. “You look cute. Picasso, but hotter.” 

Steve rolled his eyes and rubbed his hands on his cloth nearby, scraping off what he could. Meanwhile, Tony carefully sat down, brushing away half-wet paint then giving up and sitting down, effectively ruining his pants. 

“Your pants,” Steve pointed out. 

Tony shrugged. “I can get new pants, Steve.” 

Steve felt a tinge of frustration. Yes. Of course he could. 

“That looks what I came to talk about, actually,” Tony muttered, suddenly a lot quieter. Steve knew Tony only lowered his voice when it was time to be serious with him, and that worried Steve. Tony hated being serious. 

“I reserved a dinner down at that diner you love for tonight, seven-thirty. We have to talk about some things,” Tony said casually, picking at some paint stuck to the floor. 

“Oh?” Was all Steve could say. His stomach was tight, way too tight. 

“Don’t worry, Steve,” Tony laughed quietly, “nothing too serious. Just some small details, and whatnot.” 

“Details?” Steve asked.

Tony chuckled. “You don’t give up, do you?” 

“No, you know that,” Steve smiled softly.   
Tony laughed again. “Kind of... just figured we could talk about what happens next, you know? And just - some other stuff on my mind. And I know you’ve been thinking about some stuff lately, heard word you’ve been asking about me, and just wanted to clear the air of anything-“ 

“Sounds good, Tony,” Steve interrupted. Tony rambled when he was nervous, and Tony always complained later that Steve never stopped him and let him talk for way too long. 

Tony blinked, then nodded. He clapped his hands and stood up. “Great. See you then, Stevie,” Tony bent down and kissed Steve’s head, before casually exiting the room. 

Steve wasn’t sure what “what happens next” means, but it made his stomach twist. This dinner could be the opportunity Steve needed to express his concerns of the perfect gift, but maybe that would lose its value once he finally figured it out. He wasn’t sure. For now, he had to take a shower and wash this paint off. 

*

The diner was quiet and empty - reserved, as Tony had promised. Their table was the usual set up Tony requested, casual with a few candles and some expensive wine. They’d been here twice before - and every time Steve was as starstruck at the first. They were seated by the waiter, and Steve gratuitously accepted the cool water glass and some wine. Tony requested a minute for the menu, and they were left alone. 

Steve studied Tony’s outfit - a black shirt with a nice overcoat, and some nice, dark jeans. Casual, but not too. Steve had worn the - expensive - navy blue coat Tony had gifted him two weeks prior, and similarly coloured dress pants. The room was warm, and Steve felt his palms sweating slightly, but he knew it wasn’t from the heat. 

Tony was casually looking over the menu - he liked to try new dishes every time they came. Steve wanted to speak up, but felt strangely tongue-tied. That was a new problem with dating Tony - his words weren’t nearly as easy to say then before. 

Finally, Tony put down his menu - Steve ordered the same thing every time they came - and looked up at Steve.   
Steve smiled gently, his mouth dry. 

“Jesus, Steve, I can taste your nerves from here,” Tony joked, his tone light. 

Steve laughed nervously and felt his neck flush, ducking his head slightly. 

“I love when you do that,” Tony whispered, his eyes tracing Steve’s lips. Steve swallowed, shifting in his chair. 

But he wasn’t about to get distracted. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Steve asked, forcing his eyes to meet Tony’s. 

Tony looked confused for a second, than his smile disappeared and he straightened. “Right.” 

Steve waited for him to speak as Tony shuffled his hands and thought about his next words. Steve’s stomach was doing flips. 

“I just - wanted to know if...” Tony breathed. “You’re having second thoughts.” 

Steve stared at him silently, confused. “Second thoughts? About?” 

Tony sighed and laughed shakily. “Us, Steve. Second thoughts about us.” 

Steve blinked in surprise. He couldn’t seem to open his mouth, too stunned to form words. Tony face grew panicked when Steve didn’t say anything, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair, ruffling the perfect hairs out of place. 

“I knew it, I went too fast,” Tony muttered, mumbling to himself. 

“What?” Steve found his words. “No. No I haven’t - too fast? What are you talking about?” 

Tony swallowed and shifted loudly. Steve knew Tony was horrible with expressing his feelings properly, and felt his stomach drop. He hated seeing Tony so conflicted and anxious. 

“Tony,” Steve said slowly, gaining Tony’s anxious eyes onto his, “what are you talking about? What is this about?” 

“I-“ Tony sighed loudly, exasperated. “You’ve been in that room all week, away from me, and I’ve just thought about - about how I’ve been smothering you in shit I know you don’t need, but - but I really don’t want to - “ 

Tony paused, and took a breath. “Steve, I - I really don’t want to mess this up.” 

“Mess what up?” Steve asked.

“This. Us. Everything, Steve,” Tony sighed. He looked... defeated. Anxious and confused. Steve has never seen him so emotional, so free of his cover-up smiles and jokes. Steve’s chest was aching, he wanted to gather Tony into his arms and never let him go until he was smiling again, a real smile. 

“Tony...” Steve whispered. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Why would you think you did?” 

“It’s what I do,” Tony chuckled, an empty laugh, “I fuck things up.” 

“Don’t, Tony,” Steve started, but Tony interrupted him. 

“I don’t know how to share my feelings, or express my problems properly, or tell you how much I’ve always cared about you, or - I used to have posters of you as a kid, you know? When my dad wouldn’t show up for my birthday, or told me what I did wasn’t good enough, made me feel like such shit - I would look at the poster of you and feel better,” Tony paused.

Steve was shocked silent. He’d known Tony had been a fan as a child, but he’d never been told how... significant he’d been to Tony. 

“When I met you, for real, I had found you, I was so excited. But then, I realized, I - I couldn’t match you. You were - you are - perfect. You’re everything I’d hoped you be, and I hated it. Hated you. Because I knew - thought - you could never like a man like me. And then you asked me out, and I just couldn’t fucking believe it, really, and I said yes, and I couldn’t believe you really wanted me. And then I remembered why I hated you, and I thought - I thought maybe if I gave you things, good things, made you feel good, that’d you want to stay with me,” Tony’s eyes met Steve’s again. “But I remembered how much of an old man you are, that you don’t want any of that, and I - I don’t know if I, alone, can keep you happy, Steve. I don’t know.”   
Steve had to clench his chest to keep his eyes from blurring. He wasn’t a man who cried often, he was good at keeping it inside, but he was worried tears would escape him at this moment. 

“Tony,” Steve breathed out. He closed his eyes for a second, composed himself, and opened them again, staring into Tony’s exhausted eyes. 

“Tony, I’ve never been as happy as I am with you. If I didn’t - if I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have asked you on that date,” Steve laughed softly, not as it was funny, but he couldn’t believe his ears, “you haven’t done me wrong in any way since we started this relationship, and I’ve never felt any regret for any of it. I like you, Tony, and I - I think I might be falling in love with you, honestly.” 

Tony face was stunned. Steve reached over and held Tony’s hand on his, holding it tight. “It’s only been a month and I feel so - so good about this. I’ve never even considered regretting us, and I don’t know what the future will hold, but right now, I’m happy. With us. With you,” Steve finished. Tony swallowed and looked down, smiling slightly to his lap. 

“So don’t worry, okay? Because I like you,” Steve grinned. 

“I like you too, Steve” Tony chuckled. 

“I don’t need all the riches, I just need my rich man by my side,” Steve joked. 

Tony made a face. “God, that was terrible,” he groaned. The pair laughed, their hands still intertwined, and Tony waved over the waiter. 

~ 

 

Steve had figured out the perfect gift for Tony the next day. As it turned out, he’d already made it, too. 

Tony was watching TV on the couch, leaning on the armrest in his pyjamas. Steve came over in his own, carrying two cups of hot coffee and a notebook tucked under his arm. 

Tony gratefully took the coffee and took a long gulp, sighing in gratitude as Steve took his place beside him. Steve waited for Tony to pry his lips away from the cups edge, and nudged his arm. 

“Whatcha got there?” Tony asked, eyeing the notebook. 

Steve felt his neck turn pink, and he licked his lips nervously. Tony raised his eyebrow curiously, suddenly uninterested in the coffee. 

“My gift to you,” Steve said quietly, “my proof to you how much I like you.” 

Tony grinned and set down his cup, carefully grabbing the notebook. He gingerly opened the cover, and set his eyes on the first drawing. It was dated from two years ago. It was Tony, leaning in his chair during a meeting Fury had ordered, a slightly smirk on his face, his eyes sparkling. 

Steve watched Tony carefully, playing with the hem of his shirt, as he silently flipped through the book - every page filled with drawings of Tony, in various positions and styles. Drawn through the years, all the way to yesterday - the last drawing being Tony’s smile as he had looked down at his lap after Steve’s speech. On that page, Steve had written I Like You next to Tony’s head, with a small little heart. Cheesy, but Steve thought it was nice. 

Tony didn’t say anything as he closed the back cover, and gripped the book tightly. Steve’s nerves grew, afraid Tony was bothered, but he was quickly enveloped in a tight hug. His arms wrapped around Tony’s waist, pulling him closer. He was warm, and comforting. 

“Thank you, Steve,” Tony whispered.   
Steve nodded into his shoulder, relishing the feeling of Tony’s soft hair on his cheek. 

Tony pulled back and grinned at Steve. 

“I like you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta’d because I’m lazy lmao, excuse any spelling mistakes. Also I suck at writing angst, fluff and everything else so sorry.


End file.
